


Echo

by Moontyger



Category: Xenosaga
Genre: Incest, M/M, Masochism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-04 14:50:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/pseuds/Moontyger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has only been a few hours since the revelation that will change his life. Has already changed it. He had never realized, never known: death... is forever? His entire conception of the world has changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echo

  
It has only been a few hours since the revelation that will change his life. Has already changed it. He had never realized, never known: death... is forever? His entire conception of the world has changed.

He looked at Rubedo, begging him to tell him that it wasn't true, that they shared the same ability to regenerate, as they share almost everything else. They are nearly the same person, after all. Linked, bound to one another in so many ways. How can this be something they don't share? This, which suddenly matters more than anything. Because now he knows: Rubedo will die. Could die at any time. And leave him alone forever.

He has never been alone. From the moment of his birth, before it, Rubedo has been there, linked to him in body and then in mind. He had scarcely even realized that they were separate. Now, faced with the truth, that he is _different_, different in a way that matters more than anything, Albedo contemplates loneliness for the first time. An endless vista of desert, unchanging and unrelieved, no hope for his twin to rescue him, stretches before him. His soul shivers at it. He wants to hide from it, but he can't forget this terrible knowledge.

He is alone now, and it feels more complete than before, a foretaste of the endless being alone to come. He had seen the expression in Rubedo's eyes, felt his shock and horror like it was a blow. He had to get away: he can't bear to feel the rejection, the revulsion, yet being away _hurts_. And he can't forget; the image replays over and over in his mind.

His stomach cramps and he curls into a ball around it. He can feel Rubedo looking for him; can feel him trying to understand, wanting to apologize, but he isn't sure he is ready to face him. Not yet. And of course Rubedo knows he isn't ready and so doesn't find him. Leaving Albedo alone. He doesn't want to be alone! He will always be alone.

He must have somehow fallen asleep, because it is dark now, and the others (and never have they felt more other than they do tonight) are asleep. He can hear their breathing in the dark, but for once it doesn't soothe him. Instead it feels like the breathing of some predator, hunting him. No, worse, hunting the only one who means anything to him.

He knows Rubedo is still there, still safe, but it isn't enough. He wants to know it on some visceral, deeper level. That he is safe, that he still loves him. That his heart is still whole.

Rubedo doesn't wake when he crawls into bed besides him. Why should he? It's not a stranger or a threat; it is the other half of his heart, his twin, returning to lay with him as they had lain before birth. He listens to his heartbeat, in unison with his own, and feels almost at peace. This is the only way he can _ever_ feel at peace. Rubedo's presence soothes his fears, makes him feel like a whole person. How could he exist without him?

Now he knows, though, in a way he hasn't before: they aren't the same. He watches Rubedo's chest rise and fall in the dark and realizes: he could hurt him. He could hurt him, and he wouldn't feel it himself and it wouldn't heal. Not right away. Maybe not at all. He could kill his brother, here and now, in the dark, before anyone could stop him. He had never known that. He looks at him and wonders what it would be like. What would it be like to be that vulnerable? How can he trust, how can he ever feel safe, knowing his hurts won't heal? What would it be like to be the cause of those hurts? Would he enjoy it? Albedo almost suspects he would, and the idea frightens him.

He doesn't hurt him, of course. He needs him; he loves him; he almost _is_ him. Instead he wraps his arms around him, holds him tight, and kisses his other self softly on the lips, seeking reassurance.

He feels Rubedo wake, but he doesn't push him away. He knows how badly Albedo needs this, can feel his desperation. Rubedo is the leader of the URTVs; of course he will try to reassure any of the others. But Albedo hopes it is more than that.

"I'm sorry," Rubedo whispers, as Albedo stares at him, trying to memorize him, make him his. "I didn't know."

He kisses him again because he doesn't want to hear it. The reassurance he needs goes deeper than words. They almost insult it. Tonight, he needs to know he isn't alone.

His hands delve inside the institutional pajamas Rubedo wears, that he would be wearing had he ever changed. He is hungry for the touch of skin on skin; wants to prove to himself in all ways that Rubedo is _here_, with him, still a part of him. Nipples harden under his fingers and he swallows the moan he knows his brother will make with his mouth.

"Please, make me a part of you again," Albedo whispers. He knows what Rubedo's response will be before he hears it, but he wants to hear it anyway. He is so hungry for his touch that he wants to whimper with it.

"You _are_ a part of me," Rubedo says, as he always does at times like these, but it has never mattered so much before. "You are the other half of my heart." And he feels that he shares the same need, the need they never voice. But then they don't have to.

He can't tell anymore whose hands are where, who is touching and whom is being touched. It all slides together in a blend of pleasure and need, reflected endlessly back on itself. And then he breaks the pattern.

"Hurt me," Albedo says. "I need you to be rough." The depth of his sudden need for pain astonishes him.

Rubedo goes absolutely still. He can feel the shock in his mind. "I... how can you ask me to do that?" he whispers back angrily. "I love you! How can I hurt you?"

"Please." He hates explaining, hates using words. Can't Rubedo feel it: the rightness of his request?

"You saw, earlier today. Any hurt you do me won't be permanent. Being hurt might as well be what I was made for; might _be_ what I was made for. Please, fulfill my purpose! Hurt me. Make me feel it. I need to feel something!"

He can feel Rubedo's reluctance, but knows his need calls to him. "All right," he says, hesitantly. "Just this once."

He bites him, hard, and Albedo moans. Nails leave bloody furrows in his skin and he loves it, even as they glow violet and vanish. Rubedo penetrates him, with no preparation, no lubrication, and the pain is intense and terrible. He feels himself tear, and he just wants more. He isn't sure there could ever be enough pain, that anyone could ever hurt him enough, to fill the emptiness inside him: the aching need he had never known was there and yet now seems to be an inherent part of his being. He wishes Rubedo had a weapon, something to cause more severe damage. But he doesn't say it. He can feel Rubedo's reluctance at even this and knows he is hurting him, too, at least emotionally. This is enough, for now. It has to be.

A particularly hard bite and he comes, as his twin swallows his cries. This, too, is different and yet the same: the intense pleasure entwined with and part of the pain. It has never been like this before. He doesn't think he will ever want it any other way again.

Afterwards, they lay together, as they have on many other nights. He can feel Rubedo's blue eyes watching him, searching him, inside and out. But the only damage is inside and invisible, although he knows he can sense it.

"If I asked you, would you kill me?"

Shock, horror, fear, revulsion. All in waves that beat at him, so strong he can almost see them. Albedo tries to make him understand.

"If you died, I would be alone. I don't want to be alone. I couldn't bear it. Please, don't leave me alone."

Rubedo doesn't understand, doesn't want to understand. "I won't leave you alone, Albedo," he says, strength and determination in his young voice. "You know that."

Such mindless reassurances are for children and Albedo is no longer a child, not after today. "You wouldn't mean to, maybe. But you would. Please, will you kill me when I ask? I want it to be you, my brother. My other half."

This means so much to him. How can Rubedo say no? But he can feel that the very asking hurts him. How can he not understand? Albedo would do _anything_ to not be alone. Death would be a gift, a gesture of love. Who better to give that gift than the twin he loves more than life?

Rubedo tries a different tack. "What about me? I don't want to be left alone, either. I need you." His voice breaks, and Albedo can tell he is trying not to cry, trying to keep his voice down. But this discussion hurts too much to have any other way; words create distance from their substance and they both need that desperately.

He is sincere, but he is still wrong. "You think you do, but you don't. You're the leader, the hero. I'm just your sidekick, a cheap copy. You are the real person, I am just your echo. Don't you see that?"

He'd always known it. Even their bodies showed it: Rubedo in bright color, while Albedo was pale and faded, barely visible next to him. Rubedo is the leader; he merely follows. He had never wanted it to be any other way. He still didn't.

"I am only real with you here, Albedo. You are my other half. Please, don't ask this of me."

Albedo kisses him softly, accepting his answer. Rubedo isn't ready and maybe he isn't either. For now, they will still be together. For tonight, it's enough.


End file.
